No One, But You
by plottingeternal
Summary: A take on one of the Arthurian legends. Tristan, Lancelot, and Dagonet will stay alive! There will be pairings for each knight. Be warned, there is some language and violence, although that might not be as well written.
1. I Know What He Did!

**No One, But You**

by **xx-mads-xx**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

* * *

The ground was damp from the morning's dew. The smells of the woods invaded every pore in her face, while the fog slightly clouded her vision. Behind her, standing with a group of men was Merlin. He watched the carriage move across the grass just beyond the forest. There were pairs of Roman soldiers in both the front and back, all to escort one little carriage. 

She glanced up to make sure everyone was ready, there could be no mistakes. They had come past Hadrian's Wall, to the south. This was Roman territory and they would be killed if they were caught. She turned her gaze to Boden, who stood, awaiting her signal. She nodded, and Boden brought up his bow and let fly his arrow. It hit its target with enough force that the Roman was sent to the ground.

The rest of the guard had all watched him fall and snapped their attention toward the forest. Out from the shadows came a small horde of men in scraggly clothes made mostly of animal skins. Their faces and bodies were covered in blue paint and dark tattoos.

As they ran toward the Romans with spears, daggers, and swords, they yelled as loudly as possible. She stood watching the fight, knowing that they would most likely lose. Looking back toward Merlin, she wondered if he would have her join the others in the fight.

Many of the Woads were killed almost immediately, but they still outnumbered the Roman guards. Above her, Boden sat in his tree, firing arrows helping out when necessary. The thudding sound of horses reached her ears, causing her to snap her attention to the left. All the Woads could plainly see seven horsemen, coming fast and unsheathing swords and axes.

One of the riders, their leader apparently, was thrusting his sword into all that he passed, another had come down off his horse and had currently fallen into the water with two Woads and came up yelling. Yet another rider had killed his way toward the carriage. As he tried to look in the carriage, he was tackled from behind. He quickly stood and brought down his axe on the attacker, only to have an arrow shot in his shoulder by Boden.

She looked up at him, and smirked. He looked down and smiled at her approval, but suddenly had an arrow in his eye. He fell, dead, to the ground at her feet. She looked up to see who had fired the shot. She saw a man with dark hair in loose braids covering a good portion of his face. He dropped his bow and brought his horse to a stop and got off. He slowly walked forward and pulled out a long, curved sword, not a usual weapon.

She glared at him as he took those steps, her anger burning inside. He fought as though he was in a dance. Taking a step back, he swung his sword, cutting down an attacker to his right, only to turn towards another victim. She didn't look back at Merlin, she didn't silently ask for permission, she just ran out of the forest toward the braided idiot, taking out her sword. He heard her and stood waiting for her approach.

She came to stand in front of him, glaring. He just stared back at her, his sword held out. They stood like that for a moment until she lunged forward. She thrust out her sword trying to cut him, but he easily blocked her, moving to graze her side. She took a step back feeling the end of his blade cut her skin.

Glaring at him once more, she ran forward ready to pounce. The next thing she knew, she was on the ground on her back. She propped herself up on her elbows and looked up at him. He was now standing over her, his sword at her neck.

"Damn him!" she thought, furious with herself. He made no move to kill her, only stood, staring at her.

"Pick it up," she heard a voice say behind her.

Straining her head she looked back to see Kalen on his knees in front of the leader of the riders. He seemed to be in the same predicament. Looking up towards the man standing above her, she sighed, "Are you going to kill me or not?"

He stood for another moment before stepping back and sheathing his sword. She rolled onto her stomach and got up quickly, going over to Kalen. Everyone was dead, save the two of them, the surviving Roman guards were over by the carriage, watching.

She stood next to Kalen, watching the man before them.

"Why did Merlin send you south of the wall?" he demanded.

"He has many reasons for his actions, Arthur Castus," she told him. She noted that the rest of the riders were standing around them, watching, and their weapons at the ready just in case.

Arthur looked up into the forests, searching. He held the sword at Kalen's throat a moment longer, staring into the trees, then let it down and stood watching them.

She helped Kalen to his feet and prepared to disappear into the woods once more. Kalen spoke to her in their native tongue, "That one, with the braids, he defeated you."

"I know what he did!" she said, angrily. "And if you remind me of it ever again, I will hurt you. I don't know how you saw it anyways, you were to busy getting your ass kicked."

Kalen bristled at the comment, about to reply when one of the men spoke up, "Wait!"

The pair turned back, suspiciously. A tall man with dark, curly hair stepped forward, his hands on the handles of his two swords.

"I was wondering if we might know the lady's name," he said, smiling at her. She looked at him surprised. Never had any man ever called her a lady. She noted the man she had fought was staring at her again. She met his gaze, holding it.

"Isolde," she said, loud enough for all to hear. With that she turned and ran into the forests towards Merlin, Kalen behind her.

* * *

Arthur turned toward the carriage where Bors stood, looking in.

"What a bloody mess," Bors said to him, pointing at the dead man in the carriage. Arrows protruded from the body and the side of the carriage. Blood was beginning to pool on the carriage floor.

After looked inside, taking in the sight, "That's not the bishop."

Bors mumbled something going around the carriage, and past a babbling man.

"God help us. What are they?" he said, in fear.

"Blue demons who eat Christians alive," Bors said, gruffly. He suddenly turned toward the man and pointed at him, "You're not a Christian, are you!?"

The man backed up into the back of the carriage and put his hands together as if in prayer, whimpering.

Bors looked at him quizzically, and put his hands together, imitating the man, "Does this…really work?" he mumbled, his face upward, then looked at the man again. "Nothing…maybe I'm not doing it right."

"Arthur! Arthur Castus," one of the Romans said. "Your father's image. I haven't seen you since childhood."

"Bishop Germanius, welcome to Britain," Arthur said smiling. "I see your military skills are still of use to you. Your device worked."

Germanius laughed, "Ancient tricks, for an ancient dog." He looked over to the rest of the knights, "And these are the brave Sarmatian knights we have heard so much of in Rome."

Germanius got down off his horse, "I thought the Woads control the north of Hadrian's Wall."

Arthur walked with the bishop, who was dressed in a Roman guard uniform, towards the carriage. "They do, but they occasionally venture south. Rome's anticipated withdrawal from Britan has only increased their daring."

The man at the back of the carriage, by Bors looked confused, "Woads?"

Gawain, who was now atop his horse, spoke up nonchalantly, "British rebels who hate Rome."

"Men who want their country back," Galahad said to Germanius, leaning forward.

The Bishop ignored him, looking to Arthur, "Who leads them?"

"He's called Merlin. A dark magician, some say," Lancelot said, waiting to go.

The carriage had been cleaned out as two of the Roman guards carried the body out, one took a piece of cloth off the body to try and mop up some of the blood.

"Tristan, ride ahead and make sure the road is clear," Arthur said. Tristan gave a nod and took off. Arthur looked back to Germanius, "Please do not worry, Bishop. We will protect you."

Germanius stepped up into the carriage saying, "I have no doubt, commander. No doubt…"

The man at the back of the carriage started to go toward the carriage door, muttering. "Dozens don't worry me nearly so much as thousands."

He stopped short when the door was shut in his face.

"Thousands?" Lancelot said, glaring at him.

* * *

**A/N: **So this is the official rewrite of my fic. I just found so many mistakes and when I re-read the story it read... well crappily. So, I rewrote parts of it. The dialogue that's straight out of the movie, I'm not even touching cause that was just filler and getting settings down. But the stuff with Isolde and stuff that wasn't in the actual movie will most likely be changed a tiny bit at the least. Thanks to all loyal readers and reviewers, the reviews keep me from forgetting about this fic! 


	2. Let Me Redeem Myself

**No One, But You**

by **xx-mads-xx**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

* * *

Isolde slowly came to stand next to Merlin. He just continued to stand, staring as the carriage moved out of view. The remaining Woads in the forest all surrounded him, waiting for his signal for any action.

"What now?" she asked him, in their native tongue.

Merlin spoke in his almost weary voice, "Now we go home and continue to search for Guinevere."

Isolde touched his arm, "Let me bring her back. I must redeem myself." She was embarrassed that she had been bested in a fight. Never before had it happened, the Romans she fought were usually too dumb and the Woads she sparred with were too familiar. Defeat was an feeling she hadn't dealt with since childhood, and she hated it, it left a bad taste in her mouth.

Merlin turned to look at her, "Redeem yourself? Why must you do that, child?"

"She is upset because that Sarmatian defeated her," Kalen said, motioning in the direction in which the knights had gone.

"Quiet! I do not wish to be reminded of that!" Isolde hissed at him. Leave it to Kalen to make light of the situation, he never understood since he lived under different circumstances.

Merlin waved his hand, dismissing the argument between the two. Looking to Isolde he said, "So you feel you must redeem yourself to yourself?"

She nodded, looking at the ground.

"Fine," Merlin said. "Go now, and do what you must."

"Thank you," Isolde said, before running towards her horse.

* * *

The knights had reached the top of yet another hill, except that just beyond it was the Wall.

"Freedom Bors," the usually quiet Dagonet said.

"Mm," Bors replied. "I can almost taste it."

The others smiled at this, knowing how much each would treasure their long denied freedom.

"Well now that we're free men," Bors continued. "I'm gonna drink 'till I can't piss straight."

"You do that every night," Gawain said, nonchalantly.

Bors looked at him, "I never could piss straight. Too much of myself to handle, down there."

While Bors looked to each of them, the rest of the knights looked straight ahead, knowing what he was going to say.

"Well it's a problem!" Bors exclaimed. "No really, it is. It's a problem. It's like-"

"A baby's arm holdin' an apple," they all said in unison.

* * *

The woods were dark, and the smell of oncoming was in the air. Merlin sat next to the fire, listening to Kalen talk. All he could focus on was the days fight and what they should do next.

As Merlin watched the flames, a tall, older woman came toward them and sat down. She took Merlin's hand in her own and rested it in her lap.

"Where is Isolde?" she asked him, quietly.

Kalen stopped talking, watching the exchange.

"She went to find Guinevere," Merlin said, wearily. "She felt the need to redeem herself."

"But," the woman looked from Merlin to Kalen. "Why?"

"She," Kalen started, trying to find the words. "She was…defeated earlier."

The woman started to smile, and squeezed Merlin's hand, a little bit of hope blooming in her mind, "By who?"

Kalen looked to Merlin, who nodded. He shifted back to her, "A Sarmatian knight."

* * *

The knights had reached the wall and were heading toward the fort. They had formed a sort of caravan with the Romans and the carriage.

"I don't like it," Galahad said, riding next to Bors and Gawain. "Rome. He's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?"

"Is this your happy face?" Gawain asked, laughing.

Galahad couldn't help grinning.

"Galahad," Gawain said, looking forward. "Do you still not know the Romans? They don't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony."

"Why don't you just kill him," Bors added, gruffly. "And the discharge yourself after?"

"I don't kill for pleasure, unlike some," Galahad looked to Tristan, who had come up on his left.

"Well, you should try it someday," Tristan said. "You might get a taste for it."

* * *

Laughter could be heard from the outside tavern. The knights were back and they were having fun. Gawain was currently sitting, holding a tankard or beer with a woman on his lap. Tristan was sitting in a chair at the end of the table they had shared, silently eating his apple. Lancelot sat holding his tankard while Bors and Galahad stood. Dagonet stood by the bar holding a cup he had just downed. They all were all staring at Vanora, mesmerized as she sand a song to her eleventh child.

As she finished her song, Arthur came into the open tavern. He stopped, hearing Vanora singing and stood listening. As she finished, Jols caught sight of Arthur, about to leave.

"Arthur!" he called out, alerting the others.

"Arthur!" Galahad said, snapping out of his daze, happy to see his commander.

Arthur sighed and briskly went to them.

Galahad was smiling at him, slightly drunk, "You're not completely Roman yet, right?"

"Rus!" Bors yelled out, hitting his chest.

Lancelot was watching Arthur, not sure if he liked the look on his face.

"Knights, brothers in arms," Arthur said, as if giving a speech. "Your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but I must ask you now for one further trial."

They looked at him, thinking it was a joke.

Arthur continued, "We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted."

Now the knights had to laugh, they had done their time, they were now free.

"Above the wall," Arthur continued, yet again. "There lies a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

Bors scoffed, "Let the Romans take care of their own."

Gawain, who was now standing, said drunkenly, "Above the wall is Woad territory."

"Our duty to Rome," Galahad said, trying to laugh it all off. "If it ever was a duty, is done. Our pact with Rome is done."

"Every knight here has laid his life on line for you," Bors said, pointing at Arthur. "For you. And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours!"

"Bors," Arthur said, trying to reason. "These are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with-"

"I'm a free man!" Bors yelled, extremely angered. "I will choose my own fate!"

"Yeah, yeah," Tristan said, cutting off a slice of apple. "We're all going to die someday. If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you – stay home."

"If you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" Galahad said, Lancelot holding him back from attacking Tristan. "I've got something to live for!"

"The Romans have broken their word, we have the word of Arthur. That is good enough. I'll prepare," Dagonet said, walking toward their rooms. "Bors, you coming?"

"'Course I'm coming!" Bors practically screamed. "Can't let you go on your own, you'll all get killed!"

Bors looked around as Gawain and Galahad stood facing Arthur. Tristan followed Dagonet, knowing he should prepare.

"I'm just saying what you're all thinking!" Bors yelled, before mumbleing. "Vanora'll kill me."

He stalked off, and Arthur looked toward the last two remaining knights, "And you, Gawain?"

"I'm with you," Gawain said, sighing. Before he walked off, he took a look at Galahad, "Galahad as well."

The young knight stared at Gawain in astonishment, not knowing what to say. He turned back to look at Arthur and laughed in disbelief, turning his pourer of wine upside down and smashing it on the ground.

He turned walking past Gawain to their rooms, leaving Lancelot and Arthur behind.

* * *

Isolde crouched down, low to the ground; she had ridden the rest of the day and most of the night at break-neck speed to get to the dirty Romans estate. Her horse was exhausted and she had left him in the woods to rest.

She now watched the Romans intently, trying to get a feel for their routine, if they even had one. No one had seen her sneak onto the estate. Most of the peasants were sleeping and the guards on duty were blind in the dark.

Isolde crept toward one of the lone Romans, pulling out a dagger. She grabbed him from behind, holding the dagger at his throat. He struggled for a second, till he felt the tickle of blood on his neck.

"Where is the Woad woman?" she demanded.

Before the guard could answer, Isolde was hit in the back by another guard. She fell to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. She grunted as they began to hit her, subduing her. She cried out as the cut she had received earlier from the braided idiot was reopened. She had failed to redeem herself; she had failed to rescue Guinevere. Those were the last things she thought, till a kick to her head caused her vision to go black.

* * *

**A/N: **Read and Review, people! Read and Review!! 


	3. Then We'll Never Make It

**No One, But You**

by **xx-mads-xx**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

* * *

When her eyes opened again, Isolde felt an extreme pounding in her head. She felt hot, sticky, and dirty…not the best combination. Blinking, she could see the blurry image of a fire; that explained the hot and sticky feeling. She realized that her body was in an odd position. She slightly tilted her head to look up, almost blacking out from the pain in her head, her hands wrists were chained and hanging above her. She was almost sitting on the grubby, soiled floor, but not quite so the pressure of holding up all her weight was on her wrists. She couldn't even feel her fingers, let alone move them.

She let her head fall back down and she looked at her stomach. Her wound was bleeding slightly; she could see the trail of dried blood running down to her legs. There were bruises all over her body, some going from light purple to a darker shade, while others were already a dark shade of blue, almost black.

Blinking her eyes again, in an effort to keep them focused, she noticed something to her left. Turning her head, slowly, she saw the decaying corpse of an old man. His skin was dried and sunken in, his body still hanging from his chains. She panicked, her breath quickening, but she couldn't move away from his body.

She was in a sort of dungeon with a corpse and no sign of Guinevere. Lifting her eyes, she was a balding man with scraggly hair, moving in a circle. He was waving his hands and reading from a book. His chanting in Latin invaded her ears and she scowled, it was the language Romans used for their ceremonies. There was another man, ugly, with dark hair, he had noticed that she was awake and had come to stand over her.

"Well," he said, scowling. "Do you know why you are here?"

Isolde moved her head in response, groaning.

"You are a pagan, a sinner. You have been found guilty of attempting to kill a mercenary. You must be punished for your crimes against God," he said.

He continued on, but Isolde caught none of it. She gave one last glance around as she blacked out.

* * *

The sound of horses alerted the serfs of Marius Honorius. They looked up from their work in the fields and around their small huts to see seven horsemen riding straight toward the estate gates. They heard a mercenary guard call for the gates to be closed.

"Who are you?" one called, as the seven horses came to a stop before the gates.

One man, in front of the others spoke, confidently, "I am Arthur Castus, commander of the Sarmatian knights and by Bishop Germanius of Rome. Open the gate."

The gate opened immediately as he finished speaking. A short, fat and mean looking man came out with two mercenary guards. It was Marius Honorius.

"It is a wonder you have come!" he said, happily. "Good Jesus, Arthur and his knights." He reached up to pet Galahad's horse, but the horse pulled away; smart animal. Marius continued, "You have fought the Woads, vile creatures."

Arthur ignored the small talk, getting straight to business, "Our orders are to evacuate you immediately."

Marius looked from him to the other knights and back. "Th-that's impossible," he stuttered.

Arthur looked up, searching, "Which is Alecto?"

"I am Alecto," a voice said, from above the gate. Arthur looked up to see a young man with dark hair, standing next to an older woman, his mother.

"Alecto is my son," Marius said. "And everything we have is here in the land given to us by the Pope of Rome."

"Well, you're about to give it to the Saxons," Lancelot said, growing impatient.

"They're invading from the north," Arthur told a shocked Marius.

Marius thought a second, and then said matter-of-factly, "Then Rome will send an army."

"They have," Arthur told him, firmly. "Us. We leave as soon as you're packed."

Marius puffed up, "I refuse to leave."

The knights just sat, watching as Alecto came out, followed by his mother.

Breaking the silence, Marius looked toward his serfs, "Go back to work! All of you! Get back to work!" Many of the guards followed suit, even pushing people down if they didn't move.

Arthur had, meanwhile, dismounted his horse and stalked up to Marius, "If I fail to bring you and your son back, my men can never leave this land," he told the Roman, through gritted teeth. "So you're coming with me if I have to tie you to my horse and drag you all the way to Hadrian's Wall myself."

Marius looked almost horrified, Arthur gave a bow, "My lord." Turning to Marius' wife, Fulcinia, he said, "Lady, my knights are hungry."

She touched Marius' shoulder, silently asking. "Go," he told her. He stared at Arthur for another moment before turning and telling Alecto, "Come."

Arthur looked to his right, a strange, round rock building catching his eye. Bors patted his shoulder, jerking Arthur out of his stare.

"Come," Bors told him. "Let's go."

Arthur looked over toward the tiny huts and the serfs, standing around them. His eyes narrowed, something catching his eye, and he started over there, drawing Excalibur. Bors, realizing what Arthur was doing, drew his sword as well.

As Arthur walked over, a gangly young man started walking next to him, babbling, "Sir, you're famous! You're Arthur, aren't you? I'm Ganis, I'm a good fighter and I'm smart. I'd server you proudly. Sir-"

Arthur came to a stop before an old man hanging from chains. He was practically naked and wasn't moving.

Arthur pointed at the man, "Who is this man?"

"He's our village elder," Ganis said.

"What is this punishment for? Arthur asked. When no one answered he shouted, "Answer me!"

"He defied our master, Marius," Ganis told him. "Most of the food we grow is sent out by sea to be sold. He asked to keep a little more for ourselves, that's all. My arse has been snuffing at the grass I'm so hungry! You're from Rome! Is it true that Marius is a spokesman for God, and that it is a sin to defy him?"

By this time Alecto and a few guards were in the crowd, watching. Arthur took another look at the chained up, old man and turned back to the crowd, pointing Excalibur at them. They all took a step back, frightened.

"I tell you now," Arhtur told them, firmly. "Marius is not of God. And you, all of you, were free from your first breath."

He suddenly turned, swinging Excalibur, and cut the chains holding up the old man.

"Help this man," he said. When no one moved he again shouted, "Help him!"

The serfs rushed forward helping the man to his feet.

Arthur watched them and said, "Now hear me, a vast and terrible army is coming this way. They will show no mercy, spare no one. Those of you who are able should begin to gather your things and move south, towards Hadrian's Wall. Those unable shall come with us."

He looked up to Ganis, "You, serve me now. Gather these people."

"Right! You heard him!" Ganis said to the serfs, as Arthur went back to his horse.

Over by the rock building, the guards were pushing to monks to finish putting up bricks in order to seal the door. As they did this, Tristan rode up to Arthur. He stopped in front of Arthur's horse to report.

"They have flanked us to the east; they're coming from the south, trying to cut off our escape," Tristan told him, letting out a breath. "They'll be here before nightfall."

"How many?" Arthur asked him.

"An entire army," Tristan said, flatly.

"And the only way out is to the south?"

Tristan shook his head," East. There is a trail, heading east across the mountains. It means we'll have to cross behind the Saxon lines, if that's the road we shall take." He looked over at all the serfs, preparing to leave. Looking back to Arthur he said, "Arthur, who are these people?"

"They're coming with us," Arthur told him.

Tristan stared at him for a moment, "Then we'll never make it."

Arthur looked down, solemnly just before the Saxon drums began to pound. Tristan looked up and the other knights turned around, listening. The guards by the rock building stopped and listened for a moment and then turned back to the two monks, "Come on, get back to work!"

Arthur watched as the monks continued to build up the wall. The mystery of it finally got to him and he dismounted again and approached them. He withdrew Excalibur and pointed it at the guards that now blocked him. "Move," he told them. They just stood still, silent, and he again said, "Move."

The other knights had now ridden over to see what the trouble was. "Move!" Arthur told the guards. They slowly backed away, allowing Arthur to go over to the building.

"What is this?" he asked, pointing to it.

"You cannot go in there," one of the monks, a particularly ugly one, said. "No one goes in there. This place is forbidden."

"What are you doing!?" Marius yelled. "Stop this!"

The other knights stopped him, as Arthur tried to look inside the building.

"Arthur," Lancelot said, trying to reason with him. "We have no time."

"Do you not hear the drums?" Galahad added.

Dagonet," Arthur said, pointing toward the building.

Dagonet dismounted his horse and took out his axe. Going over to the bricked up door, he moved his axe back and swung at the bricks with full force. He hit the wall till the bricks fell to his feet. Behind the bricks was a wooden door. As he tried to open it, Dagonet found it locked.

"Key," Arthur said to the guards.

"It is locked…" one said. "From the inside."

Arthur nodded to Dagonet, who proceeded to kick in the door. Lancelot dismounted as Arthur moved to go in. Gawain pushed one of the monks forward, "Here you. Go. Move!"

Tristan stayed outside, unsheathing his sword, as the rest of the knights went inside. The first thing they could see was a flight of stairs and chains hanging everywhere. The place was dark and smelled putrid.

They went down the slightly spiraled staircase and came to what could only be called a dungeon. There was a man chanting in Latin and the putrid smell was worse than before. Arthur moved his torch and found a man hanging by chains, dead.

The chanting monk stopped and looked at them, disgusted, "Who are these defilers of the Lord's temple?"

Lancelot shoved him, "Out of the way." As the knights looked around they saw the bodies of tortured dead. "The work of your God?" Lancelot asked Arthur. "Is this how he answers your prayers?"

"See if there's any still alive," was all Arthur could reply.

Young Galahad had discovered the rotting corpse of another old man hanging by chains. He looked to the form of a young woman next to him, thinking she was dead. A groan from her proved him wrong though.

"This one's alive!" he shouted, cutting the chains holding her up.

* * *

Isolde felt herself suddenly falling. She winced as her body made full contact with the ground. She groaned and made a failed attempt to pick herself up only to end up feeling more pain blossom throughout her body.

Two arms picked her up, one around her shoulders and the other around her knees. She couldn't help crying out in pain as her rescuer put pressure on her bruises. She opened her eyes, blinking repeatedly, and was able to make out a beard and a mop of hair as he took her up the stairs and outside. She shut her eyes quickly, the light hurting her eyes.

"Tristan!" the man said. "Here, give her water. I'm going to see if there are anymore."

Isolde was lifted up and put into the arms of another man. She looked up at his face, trying to focus her vision. Loose, dark braids came into vision and the face of the man she had fought along with it.

"Oh, no," she thought, groaning. How could the Goddess hate her so?

Tristan reached behind him, keeping her up with one arm so he could retrieve his water skin and open it. He brought the opening to the girl's mouth and simply said, "Drink."

Isolde took little gulps, almost choking. The Roman woman, Fulcinia, came over and gently touched her face, making Isolde flinch slightly, her head was still sore.

Tristan put the water skin away and gathered the girl up in his arms, holding her more effectively. His one arm was around her back and the other resting on her legs, holding the reigns. Her head was now under his chin.

"What is your name?" he asked, softly, looking back towards the door to the hidden dungeon.

"Isolde," She told him, her head laid on his chest as Arthur came out holding Guinevere and a giant, bald man holding small boy. Guinevere was here, she was alive. Isolde smiled a little at that and closed her eyes, falling asleep. The last thing she heard was the braided idiot saying, "Isolde."

* * *

**A/N: **Read and Review, people! Read and Review!!! 


	4. If Only He Would Stop Staring

**No One, But You**

by** xx-mads-xx**

**Disclaimer: **I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

* * *

The feeling of jerky rocking woke Isolde from her slumber. She half expected to be back in the dungeon, hanging by chains but instead she found herself in a caravan on a bed of furs, covered with a blanket. She slowly turned her to her right and caught sight of Guinevere sleeping peacefully.

Isolde smiled at that and looked to the end of the caravan, she saw the bald giant caring for the small boy he'd brought out from the dungeon, with the help of Fulcinia, the Roman woman. Isolde had decided Fulcinia was the only good Roman in the world, she had helped them whenever possible, stealing food down to the so called "sinners" when the priest and her husband weren't looking.

The giant seemed to have noticed Isolde was awake and gently smiled. She regarded him somewhat suspiciously for a moment, but noting how he cared for the boy, she returned his smile with her own small one. Suddenly, the caravan flap opened and there stood the braided idiot. He looked at the giant, giving a nod and pulled himself into the caravan. Isolde narrowed her eyes as he spoke lowly to the gentle giant, who handed over a bowl of something. The idiot nodded again, and stalked towards the back of the caravan to Isolde. She immediately tensed and tried to pull her legs up, but they were still to sore and she only succeeded in causing herself pain.

He came to sit next to her and set the bowl down next to him. "Give me your hands," he said, softly in a deep, accented voice.

Isolde just glared at him. Why should she? How did she know he wouldn't try to hurt her? She didn't even know his name! He just sat staring at her, waiting. She kept glaring until he finally reached over and tried to take her hand. She quickly hid her hands sat up straighter.

"Give me your hands, girl," he said, a little more forcefully.

"No," Isolde said, in an accusing tone. "Why should I?"

"I need to put this salve onto your hands," he told her, holding up the bowl. "It will help them heal."

She eyed him for a moment, "Tell me your name first."

"Why should my name matter?" he asked. His voice and face never changed, never showed an ounce of emotion. It was just unnatural.

"I've given mine, twice," she said. "I still do not know yours."

He sat a moment, thinking, and then showed the tiniest hint of understanding. "So you are the same girl," he said, quietly. "Tristan."

"Tristan," she repeated. He nodded, holding out his hand. Slowly, Isolde brought out her left hand and placed it in his; he held it gently and looked it over for a moment. Glancing up at her face for a moment he dipped his fingers into the salve. It was thick and green in color, it smelled slightly sweet. He brought it up to her hand and slowly rubbed it in, going over each digit, knuckle thoroughly, and then turning her hand over to do the same for the girl's palm.

The whole time he did this, Tristan noticed her hand and fingers never moved. He looked back up to her face, "So, Dagonet was right. You can't use your fingers."

She scowled at him, "What would you expect? I was hanging from my wrist for two days."

He just continued to stare; it was slightly unnerving to her. When he finished rubbing the salve into her hand he began to move her fingers and massage them, almost digging his fingers into her skin.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, annoyed.

"Your fingers can't move because your blood flow was cut off," he said, his stare never wavering. "This will help get your blood moving."

No more was said as Tristan put her left hand down and repeated the whole process with her right. Isolde turned her head to look out of the caravan, wanting nothing more than for him to stop staring.

* * *

The ride in the caravan had been boring since Tristan had helped with her hands. Isolde now sat at the end of the caravan, having traded places with Guinevere, who had moved to the back in order to get some rest. The two sat huddled together for warmth in the corner, wrapped in the furs they had been given, watching the giant, Dagonet, continue his care for the boy, Lucan.

Guinevere had just had a conversation with Arthur and had practically bored Isolde to death talking about stories her father had told her and if Arthur loved any part of this land at all. Guinevere always had to get involved and make people aware, sometimes in an almost manipulative way, but Isolde had to admit, it usually worked.

Isolde looked at the faces of the knights as they rode on. She knew that so far she liked Dagonet who seemed to care greatly for Lucan; she also had heard the knight who had rescued her was obviously the youngest. He was older than her, but she was more mature than him, it was slightly odd.

She felt Guinevere settle next to her, resting her head on Isolde's shoulder. Isolde wrapped the blanket around them a bit tighter on their shoulders.

"I though you were asleep," she said.

Guinevere smiled, "I was, but now I've awoken."

Isolde smiled turning her head back to look at the knights again. Guinevere moved her head to see what Isolde was looking at. After minutes of silence, Guinevere finally asked, "Why did you come to look for me? Why did Kalen not come with you?"

Isolde looked down to her hands and quietly said, "I came because I needed to redeem myself."

"Redeem?" Guinevere asked, puzzled.

Isolde sighed, she looked back toward the knights, "You see that one, with the braids?"

Guinevere moved her head forward a bit so she could see around Isolde and sought out the knights. She spotted them and said, "Two of them have braids."

"The one with shorter hair, and the markings," Isolde ground out, her teeth clenched.

Guinevere let her eyes rest on Tristan and took him in. He seemed to keep himself away from the group slightly. "What of him?" she asked.

Isolde mumbled something Guinevere couldn't quite hear. "What?" she asked leaning in to hear.

"He defeated me in battle," Isolde hissed, angrily.

Guinevere just sat staring at her for a moment letting the words sink in. Then slowly a grin formed on her face. "Did he really?" she asked, taking Isolde's slight nod for a yes. "Oh, just wait till she finds out. She will be so happy."

"She doesn't need to know!" Isolde whispered, almost frantically, her eyes getting wide and almost filled with fear. "I'm not telling her, and you will not tell her either."

Guinevere settled back down, once again resting her head on Isolde's shoulder, "She will find out anyways, and once she does you know what she will do."

Isolde ignored her comment, crossing her arms. She knew it was true but she decided to try to live in ignorant bliss a little longer.

* * *

They had made camp that knight near water. The camp was obviously a divided one, Marius and his mercenaries to one side and Arthur with his knights on the other. In between them was the caravan. Isolde tentatively stepped out of the caravan as Fulcinia bathed Guinevere. Isolde still had on the rags she'd worn in the dungeon and had a blanket wrapped around her for protection against the cold.

She looked to the small tent that had been set up next to the caravan. Dagonet was sitting inside and helping the small boy, Lucan, get ready for bed. Isolde could only stare in wonder as Dagonet treated and cared for the boy exactly as a father would his son.

Hearing laughter she turned her head to see that four of the other knights sitting around a fire. She looked around, wondering where Arthur and the last knight were. She found the knight; he stood under a large tree and looked toward the caravan. Quietly, she went too his side and turned her sight to what he was watching. It was Guinevere, bathing. Isolde grimaced, knowing that Guinevere had already fancied Arthur. How she could so soon, Isolde wasn't sure, the two had only just met.

"Something caught your eye?" she asked the knight.

He jumped, slightly. "Oh, no, just looking around," he said, turning away from the caravan, trying to act like he'd been scouting the area.

She just nodded, silently. He looked at her closely then. "You're the lady from battle," he said, giving her a charming smile. "Isolde."

She smirked at that, "Why would you remember me?"

As she asked him, he had started to walk, almost knowing she would follow, toward the other knights.

He sat himself down next to the fat, bald-headed one, "One does not forget a beautiful woman's name."

She stood next to him and snorted, "Please knight, do not believe me a fool and make an ass of yourself."

"Lancelot," he said, smiling again. "I am Lancelot."

She looked to the other knights. They were all watching her intently, as if unsure of what to make of her. "This is Bors," Lancelot said, motioning to the fat, bald man.

"I am Gawain," another said. He was handsome, with long fair, hair. "And this," he said patting the young knight who had saved her. "Is Galahad."

She nodded to them and then glanced toward the last one. Tristan sat staring at her again, sharpening his blade and never said a word of greeting. They stood in awkward silence for what seemed like forever, Tristan's stare never wavered and Isolde found herself wishing she'd stayed in the caravan.

"My lady," Gawain said. Isolde waved her hand, "Please, call me Isolde."

"Isolde," Gawain nodded. "May I ask how did you end up going from battle, immediately to a dungeon?"

She shifted her weight, thinking how to answer, "I went to save Guinevere."

"But aren't there others, large groups, who could have gone instead of just one woman?" Galahad asked, confused.

"I asked for it, she is too important in my life for me to give her up," Isolde told him.

"No friend is so important, that one would go in completely alone," Lancelot said, in a factual tone.

"She is not just my friend," Isolde glared at him. "She is my sister."

"Then explain," Tristan spoke up. "Why Guinevere is a Woad name, and Isolde is Sarmatian."

* * *

**A/N: **Read and Review, people! Read and Review!!! 


	5. I Hate You

**No One, But You**

by **Marie9000**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N:** Woo! I love getting reviews, they're so much fun to read. Right now I'm in a Harry Potter daze. Read the book and I'm in heaven and I'm sobbing. Remember to **Read **and **Review**!

* * *

**LANCELOTTRISTANBABY -** Dedicated reviewer, aren't ya?

**FlameBlaze1 -** Yep, it does suck.

**Gondorian Archer -** I love cliffhangers too, that's why I use 'em!

**Elfvamp1-13-97 -** Here's your explanation.

**Captain Annie -** Yeah, I like calling him the braided idiot, it's my new name for him. Another long and good review, and very helpful too!

**Evenstar-mor2004 -** I got the first virus from my cousin on IM and it all just went to crap after that. I heard that they were going to make a sequel, but a lot of people were upset about Tristan's death, so now if they do make antoehr, it will most likely be a prequel. No, I will not kill Dag or Lance, and look forward to more pairings.

**Nymbis of the Underworld -** Just wait, just wait, I go more coming soon!

**HyperSquishy -** Thanks! I was hopin' that their banter would sound good.

**newsieskane -** Ah shucks, it ain't that good.

* * *

Isolde's got a little wide and she stared at Tristan for a moment before it turned to a glare.

"I don't know what you mean," she said, turning her gaze to the forest. Why did the idiot have to stare all the time?

"Then maybe, instead of that, you could explain the Sarmatian markings on your ankles?" Tristan said. Isolde swore he was having fun with this.

Galahad bent down slightly to look at her ankles. There on the right side of her right ankle was a mark, much like Tristan's, only slightly larger.

"Hey," he said, pointing. "You do have markings."

"Do you have any more?" Lancelot asked, suggestively.

She just looked at him for a moment; did this man ever take a break from trying to seduce women?

"Actually, I have four more," she told him, smirking. "Two on my back, they signify that I am a warrior. The markings on my ankles show that I am a scout."

"And the other two?" Lancelot smiled.

Isolde pointed to Tristan, "The markings on his face are his fathers. He probably received them after his first kill. They show that he is a man and may marry. Mine are in the same place as my mothers. I received them after my first kill, I can now marry."

"Still you avoid the question," Tristan said, staring at her still. "You have a Sarmatian name and Sarmatian markings, why?"

Isolde wished she could just kill him, why did he have to know?

Letting out a sigh, she spoke, "Many winters ago, in Sarmatia, the Romans went to round up the sons from each Sarmatian tribe. When they reached the Iazyges tribe, they found that there was a shortage of sons. The Romans decided that along with the sons they would take a few daughters as well. One was Roxanna, daughter of Isolde, a tribal elder.

"When the band of Romans and Sarmatians reached Britain and began their journey to their past, they were followed by a band of Woads. The two groups clashed many times during the journey. When they did, the Woad leader would somehow always clash with Roxanna. It was said that the two came to fall in love during their fights."

"Fall in love?" Galahad interrupted. "While fighting? That's not possible."

Isolde gave him a look, "It was a rumor, not a fact."

She looked into the fire and continued, "Just before the young Sarmatians reached their post at the Great Wall, the Woads attacked a final time, killing the Romans. The Sarmatians were unharmed by order of the Woad leader. He offered them the opportunity to join the Woads and live freely. Only Roxanna and one other girl chose that path."

"What happened to them?" Galahad asked, irritatingly interested.

"The one girl married a warrior, but was unable to bear children," Isolde said, quietly. "Roxanna married the Woad leader, giving him only one child."

"So the Woads learned the names from the girls?" Bors asked, actually paying attention.

Isolde nodded silently in response.

Galahad looked extremely puzzled, "Then why does Guinevere not have the markings as well?"

"Have you noticed," Isolde started, not looking at any of them. "How the Woads look? Guinevere is a perfect example. They are tall, thin, and usually fair haired." She then unwrapped her blanket and gave them all a view of her body in her rags, "Then there is me. I do not look as a typical Woad would."

Lancelot looked impatient, "And the reason it?"

"Guinevere and I share the same father, but not the same mother. Her mother died giving birth. I am the only child of a Sarmatian and a Woad," she finished. She then shot a glare at Tristan, "is that adequate?"

He just nodded.

"How were you so familiar with my name?" she asked him.

"I am from the same Iazyges tribe as well, I knew the elder Isolde," was all he said.

Isolde felt a hand on her shoulder and looked up to see Guinevere standing beside her. "You may bathe now," she said motioning to the caravan.

Isolde nodded and stood, Guinevere headed back toward the caravan to help Fulcinia. Before following, Isolde looked back to Tristan, "I hate you."

Gawain, Lancelot, and Bors were holding back laughs while Galahad, yet again, looked confused.

"I don't believe you've ever had that effect on a woman before, Tristan," Lancelot said, smiling.

Tristan just looked to the caravan.

* * *

Isolde was sleeping peacefully, wrapped in furs next to Guinevere. Fulcinia was asleep in front of them, she had spent the night making sure they were comfortable. She was about to snuggle deeper into the furs when Isolde heard, "Seize him!"

She sat up and heard the cry of a boy, "No!" Guinevere and Fulcinia were both up now. They all scrambled to get out of the caravan. Isolde looked around seeing Dagonet in a fighting stance against Marius' mercenaries.

She saw Marius struggling to hold Lucan. In his right hand he held a dagger. Isolde started towards him, but one of the mercenaries blocked her. She was unarmed.

"I have the boy!" Marius said, holding the dagger to Lucan's throat. Motioning to Dagonet he yelled, "Kill him now!"

Dagonet stood, waiting for the mercenaries to come at him, holding his axe. Isolde stood growling at them.

Suddenly she heard a thud and a groan come from Marius. He'd been shot, an arrow stood straight out from his chest. Guinevere calmly came to stand next to Isolde, holding a bow and readying another arrow. She aimed at the mercenaries and let it hit the ground before their feet.

Lancelot and Arthur came to stand next to the sisters. "Your hands seem to be better," Lancelot smirked. Isolde could only roll her eyes.

"Artorius!" Bors yelled, riding in on horseback. "Do we have a problem"

Arthur looked to the mercenaries, "You have a choice. You help, or you die."

Bors' horse obnoxiously hit the mercenaries' head a few times before one threw his weapons down. "Put down your weapons," he told the others. "Do it, now!"

"Yeah," Dagonet said, still in his fighting stance.

The other mercenaries put down their weapons; Jols hurriedly gathered them up. They all looked up to the sound of hooves, and Tristan came riding in.

"How many did you kill?" Bors asked.

"Four," Tristan replied, riding past him.

"Not a bad start to the day," Bors laughed.

Tristan threw down a Saxon weapon at Arthur's feet. Isolde could see that it was used for firing arrows. "Armor piercing," Tristan said. "They're close, we have no time"

Arthur nodded, "You ride ahead."

"Wait!" Guinevere said, turning to Arthur. "Isolde should go with him, she is one of our best scouts."

"No," both Isolde and Tristan said at once.

She shot him a scowl, he just ignored it, "She cannot be a very good scout if she was captured."

"Well I was good enough to track you and your fellow knights for years, and you never knew," Isolde smirked at him.

"It is decided then," Arthur said. "Isolde will ride with you."

She gaped at him and then looked to Guinevere. "This is all your fault," she mouthed.

Guinevere just smiled at her. There was a nudge on Isolde's shoulder and looked back. Tristan sat on his horse, waiting. He put out a hand, waiting. Sighing, she took a hold of it and got on behind him. Reluctantly she wrapped her arms around his waist and they took off.


	6. A Free Death

**No One, But You**

by **Marie9000**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N: READ THIS FIRST!** Okay, I gots a deal for you, my wonderful readers. I applied for a job recently and I'm asking you all to send me good vibes. If I get the job and if I get **at least 10 reviews**, then I'll put up **TWO** chapters the next time I update. Is that a deal?

* * *

**HyperSquishy –** You can have Lancelot, as long as I get Tristan. :P**Captain Annie –** Ah! I love those three couples. Right before I read your review, I watched Pride and Prejudice with my mom. Colin Firth is hawt in that movie, just don't tell my mom that.  
I made up the markings thing. It came to me when I was thinking out the story and just stuck. Just wait, one more chapter and there'll be romance for the knights. 

**LANCELOTTRISTANBABY –** Here's your update.

**Stephanie –** Thanks! I'll try to write more.

**Elfvamp1-13-97 –** Thanks, I cut the ride short, but I'm gonna give Tristan and Isolde more time alone soon.

**Animechix666 –** I'd love a cookie! I'll give you a plateful of cookies for your review.

**Boondockgal –** I don't know if there really is a Sarmatian scout tattoo, I just made it up. Thanks for the review!

**Litha2124 –** Here's the update!

* * *

Isolde kept her arms locked around Tristan's waist. This was quite an uncomfortable position. The knight had not said one word since they had left the camp.

Taking a deep breath, she turned her gaze to the forest. All around them were dark trees with a blanket of white snow. Shifting, she started to regret agreeing to wear one of Fulcinia's dresses.

"You should have changed before coming," Tristan said.

Shifting again, she replied, "I didn't realize a Roman woman's dress would be so uncomfortable."

The ride was silent once again and Isolde closed her eyes, somewhat tired. She must have fallen asleep, since when she opened her eyes, the horse had stopped and they were in front of a large, frozen lake in the middle of the mountains.

Tristan got down off the horse and looked up at her, expectantly. Giving him a sigh of frustration, she struggled to get down in her dress, but managed.

Standing up straight, she looked around, "What is this place?"

"I thought you were the great Woad scout?" Tristan said, mocking her.

"Oh, shut up," she growled. "Why are we here?"

"We are making sure that this is a safe passageway," Tristan said surveying the lake.

She just stood for a moment, staring at him, "It's a frozen lake! We cannot cross that!"

He just calmly walked back over to the horse, "We can, and we will."

She was still staring at him as he got back onto his large, gray horse.

"The ice will crack and break apart as we cross," she said, crossing her arms, a smug expression on her face.

He looked down at her, offering his hand to help her up. She didn't move.

He gave an almost inaudible sigh, "I promise you, the ice will not break."

She smirked, "And what do I get if it does?"

"A free death."

Her smirk turned to a glare. She let out a frustrated sound and roughly grabbed his hand, pulling herself up.

* * *

Upon reaching their caravan, Isolde jumped from the back of Tristan's horse while it was still moving. She ran over to the wagon and got in, hurriedly.

Lancelot smiled at Tristan as he came up beside him, "I think she really likes you."

Tristan just stared at the back of the wagon.

* * *

Isolde sat down next to Guinevere, folding her arms and scowling. Fulcinia sat near the end of the wagon with Lucan and Alecto. She was stroking Lucan's hair and kept an arm around Alecto, as if in fear he would be ripped from her grasp.

"What is wrong?" Guinevere asked, holding back her smile.

"That man is impossible!" Isolde told her. "I pray that I shall never have to be alone with him again!"

Guinevere gave a laugh, "He cannot be that bad."

"Just you wait!" Isolde said, pointing outside. "He will surely lead us to our death's."

Isolde was surprised when Guinevere didn't respond. She noticed her sister was staring at the opening of the wagon. Turning her head, Isolde was greeted with the sight of Tristan's intense gaze.

Instead of trying to apologize, she folded her arms and glared, "Well, you will!"

Saying nothing, Tristan just left, but Isolde could have sworn she saw amusement in his eyes.

Arriving at the large, lake of ice, the knights stopped. Arthur looked to Tristan.

"Is there any other way?"

"No," Tristan said, simply. "We have to cross the ice."

Arthur nodded, gravely and motioned to the caravan, "Get them all out of the carriages. Tell them to spread out."

The knights all got off of their horses and slowly eased their way onto the ice. There was the loud, reverberating sound of the ice cracking below their feet and their horses started to become uneasy. Pressing onward, Isolde suddenly heard the loud beating of Saxon drums. They were close.

Guinevere went over too the wagon, dragging Isolde with her. Rummaging in the furs, she said, "Here."

Isolde looked stunned, in her hands was an old Sarmatian bow, a familiar one at that.

"My mother's bow?"

"Merlin brought it last night," Guinevere told her. "He said you might need it."

"And you didn't give it to me till now?" Isolde asked, an eyebrow raised.

"You didn't need it, till now."

Sighing, Isolde went with Guinevere to the side giving of the wagon where she heard Arthur giving Ganis orders.

"Ganis," he said, firmly. "I need you to lead the people. The main Saxon army is inland, so if you track the coastline until you're well south of the wall, you'll be safe."

"You're seven against two hundred!" Ganis exclaimed.

"Eight," Guinevere said. "You could use another bow."

"Nine," Isolde said, following Guinevere to the other knights. When Guinevere gave her a look, Isolde just stated, "If you're staying, I'm staying."

She took a place in the line of knights and noticed that Tristan, who was standing on her left, was staring at her. "Again," she thought, scowling.

"What?" she asked.

"You should have gone with the others," he said, quietly.

"Hmph," Isolde replied, turning up her nose. "I am a warrior, I live for battle."

He didn't say anything, just looked out across the ice.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, remember, READ and REVIEW. Just press the button down at the bottom and type in whatever. You can do it! 


	7. Liar

**No One, But You**

by **Marie9000**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N:** Well, I didn't get the job, so there'll only be one chapter this time. I'm still looking for a job though, possibly at either the grocery store across the street, or a Barnes & Noble. This chapter's a little short, but I didn't think you all would care, as long as I update.

* * *

**HyperSquishy –** Yay! I got Tristan! I got Tristan! does a happy dance hehehe!

**newsieskane –** Thanks! I try to make it a good relationship.

**Elfvamp-1-13-97 –** She really is a stubborn ass, isn't she?

**boondockgal – **Is she too mean? I wonder if I should pull back on her leash a little….Nah!

**Lauraine –** Tristan's my favorite too! I say they should make a plushie Tristan.

**sarmatian-woman –** Thanks for the review.

**animechix666 –** I'll take brownies too! Hmm, some Tristan and Isolde action? Maybe soon…… :P

**Captain Annie –** I guess I should start putting the thoughts like 'this', that does seem more practical. I love your reviews, their so nice and long. :D

**Litha2124 –** I love Tristan too! And thanks for the two reviews last time.

* * *

The carriages had left and now Isolde stood with Guinevere and the Sarmatian knights. At her feet was a borrowed sword and shield. Guinevere had the same.

Isolde's eyes squinted as the cold wind blew and the Saxon army arrived. It seemed like it took them forever to finally show.

"Hold until I give the command," Arthur said, watching the Saxon's intently.

"You look frightened," Lancelot said to Guinevere. "There's a large number of lonely men out there."

"Don't worry, I won't let them rape you," Guinevere replied. Isolde almost laughed.

Her eyes caught the movement of a Saxon archer. He launched an arrow towards them, but it fell short and skidded on the ice.

"I believe they're waiting for an invitation," Arthur said, looking down the line. "Bors, Tristan."

Guinevere gave him a slightly puzzled look, "We're far out of range."

He just smiled in return.

Isolde watched as Tristan and Bors launched arrows across the ice, and she smirked as two Saxons fell dead.

She heard a distant, "Let's go!" and the Saxon's began to march across the ice. She readied her bow, catching one last look from Tristan.

"Aim for the wings of the ranks," Arthur told them. "Make them cluster."

She took aim and fired her arrow, taking note of the Saxon's that fell on the right. Remaining Saxons began to move toward the middle.

Firing another arrow, more Saxons fell on the left. As the remaining Saxon's clustered, she could hear the ice cracking.

Through the cracking, "Hold the ranks!" could be heard, over and over.

The Saxons continued to march and spread only slightly. The continued to groan, but it did not break.

"It's not going to crack," Arthur said, slightly panicked. "Fall back. Fall back! Prepare for combat!"

Isolde complied and picked up the sword and shield. She was ready to spill as much Saxon blood as possible.

Next to her, Dagonet seemed slightly upset. He suddenly dropped his sword and grabbed his axe. Isolde could only stare as he yelled in fury and ran forward.

"Dag!" Bors yelled.

"Cover him!" Arthur ordered them.

Dropping the sword and shield, Isolde pulled out an arrow and started to fire into the sea of Saxons.

Dagonet brought up his axe and slammed it down onto the ice. In an attempt to protect him, the rest shot down the Saxon archers. As Dagonet brought his axe down again the ice began to break.

Isolde heard a British voice yell out, "The ice is breaking!"

Right after firing an arrow, Isolde saw Dagonet suddenly stop.

"Dag!" Bors shouted, horrified at his friend being shot.

"Guinevere!" Isolde yelled, grabbing her shield again. She ran forward with her sister. She pushed the shield into Guinevere's right hand and stood behind Dagonet, firing arrows. Guinevere crouched in front him, holding Isolde's shield as well as her own.

Dagonet lifted his axe, once more, and when he brought it down, the ice finally broke. Guinevere almost fell in as it cracked and broke around her, but Isolde caught her arm and dragged her back.

Arthur, who had suddenly come forward, was pulling Dagonet back toward the other knights.

Running back toward the knights, Isolde slipped and started to fall. Before she hit the ice, two arms caught her. Looking up, she saw the familiar Sarmatian markings on Tristan's face.

She saw behind him, Guinevere was now helping pull Dagonet towards the land. Looking back to Tristan's face, she saw he was staring at the Saxons.

Turning, she saw that the ice had now completely broken. Now, the Saxons were screaming and shouting, desperately trying to escape the freezing cold waters.

"Come," Arthur told them. "We must get to the carriages."

Isolde felt a push on her lower back, and realized that Tristan's arm was around her and he was trying to get her to move. Feeling tired and worn out, she decided she would yell at him later and moved forward.

Just before she caught up with the other knights, she abruptly stopped and turned, facing him. Crossing her arms, she just said, "Liar."

* * *

Once again sitting in the wagon, Isolde looked upon Dagonet. He had a Saxon arrow sticking out of his shoulder.

"He is our healer," Gawain said, sadly. "We do not trust the Roman healer at the fort, so we have no other."

"What about Evelyn?" Isolde asked, looking at Guinevere.

Guinevere's eyes widened a little, contemplating. She nodded and stood.

"I will go find her and tell her she is needed," Guinevere said.

Isolde nodded, looking back to Dagonet. Guinevere climbed out of the wagon and headed toward the forest at a run.

"Who is Evelyn?" Gawain asked.

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, now remember **READ** and **REVIEW**. I cannot imply that enough! 


	8. I Will Die Here

**No One, But You**

by **Marie9000**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N:** Finally I update! Ha ha! Anyways, for patiently waiting I will give each of you a cookie, here ya go. holds out plate of cookies I've been on a real HP kick lately. I actually updated my Underworld story, which is amazing; go check it out! I'm getting ready to update my HP story too. And I will update again soon! I'm just like you all waiting for updates, except I'm waiting for someone to write a Ginger Snaps story with a Brigitte/Sam pairing. There just aren't enough of those...

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** HyperSquishy -** No happy dance for me? And I ain't no llama:P Now you've met Evelyn. 

**Captain Annie -** Well, you only just got to meet Evelyn, but there will be more of her, I swear it! And there much interaction between Tristan and Isolde in this, but just wait till the next chapter, you'll be happy. This chapter's probably not very descriptive either, but I just really wanted to get it out of the way so I could write the next one.

** Elfvamp1-13-97 -** Yell at each other? ah, well they're not any more.

**animechix666 -** Brownies! Another pairing, why yes, there will be four new pairings coming into the picture soon. hee hee! XD

** boondockgal -** Thank you! Here is the more you requested.

**punk monkey -** Thank you!

**L&T -** Here ya go, sorry it took so long.

**newsieskane - ** Tristan's your favorite, eh? Back off, he's mine! just kidding XD

**Phantom666 -** Of course I'm gonna write more! I ain't abandoning anything!

** MORWEN12 -** Thank you for the review.

* * *

"Evelyn is a healer, one of the best," Isolde told Gawain. "She is second only to her mother, Morna." 

Gawain looked down at Dagonet, the Saxon arrow in his shoulder moving with the heaving of his chest.

"She will be able to help?" he asked.

She nodded, "I believe so."

Gawain sat for a moment, "What do we do till she comes?"

"Make him as comfortable as possible."

* * *

Isolde sat at the edge of the wagon; her arm was around Lucan, watching Dagonet. The boy was distraught over Dagonet's injury. He had taken to clutching the man's hand, not once letting go. 

"Ah! Good! Christ be praised!" she heard the shouting of a man with a Roman accent. "Against all the odds Satan could possibl- Alecto!"

She got out, to stand next to the wagon, wary of leaving Lucan. She saw an old, bald man in Roman clothing going over to the young Roman, Alecto. The old man was beaming while Alecto looked somewhat uncomfortable. The man continued, "Let me see you! You have triumphed! Young Alecto! Let me see you! You are here!"

While the old man continued to fawn over Alecto, Jols had brought two men over to help him carry Dagonet to his room. Isolde carefully pried Lucan from Dagonet, promising that he could go with the man.

"Great knights!" she heard. She and Lucan turned to watch the old man face the remaining knights. "You are free now! Give me the papers," he told a man beside him beside him. "Come, come!"

A Roman guard holding a gold box came forward and presented it to Arthur. Inside were seven rolls of parchment. The old man was smiling, "Your papers of safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire! Take it, Arthur."

Arthur gave the man a stony look, coming very close to him, "Bishop Germanius, friend of my father."

With that, Arthur left, going after Jols. Lancelot grabbed the papers, giving them to each knight. He gave two to Bors, who was glaring at the Bishop.

"Come on, Bors," he said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder. "Let us go see Dagonet."

Isolde watched each of them leave, except Tristan who went up to the Roman holding the gold box. He put his hands on it, looking it over, and then took it without saying anything.

He came by her and Lucan, about to pass, but she stopped him. "What about Gunievere?" she asked. "She will need to get in with the healer."

"It will be taken care of," he told her, walking on.

She watched him, slightly confused. Was he upset with her? She felt a tug on her hand and looked down to find Lucan trying to pull him toward Dagonet's room. Smiling at him, she followed him through the dark hall toward a crowded room.

Bors sat next to the bed Dagonet was laying on. Gawain and Galahad stood on the opposite side, Gawain stone faced and Galahad clearly upset. Lancelot stood next to Bors, his hand over his face. Arthur was at the end of the bed, staring at the injured man, and Tristan stood in a corner, watching.

Arthur looked up when Isolde came in with Lucan. The boy ran over to the bed and once again took ahold of Dagonet's hand.

"How long will it take your healer to arrive?" Arthur asked.

"She should be on her way now," Isolde replied, her eyes never leaving Dagonet. "She'll need to be let in with Guinevere."

He nodded, "I will go out to meet them."

Isolde nodded, not really listening. She could only see Dagonet lying on the bed. The man who had seemed indestructible was now before her, struggling for breath. Lucan's eyes shined with tears, and he was whispering something.

She did not now how long she stood watching the two, but she was jerked back to awareness when a hand touched her shoulder. She turned, behind her stood a slightly shorter young woman, with long, fair hair.

"Evelyn," Isolde breathed out.

"Is this the man?" Evelyn asked, looking towards the bed.

Isolde nodded, "Yes, Dagonet." She ushered Evelyn closer, past Lancelot, and told her of what happened. "Now he's suffering from a deep shoulder wound."

Evelyn bent down, gently taking Lucan's hand from Dagonet's looked to Isolde she softly said, "Get some blankets."

Isolde and Guinevere scrambled, getting a pile of blankets. Evelyn told them to make a bed on the other side of Dagonet, on the flood. Gawain and Galahad helped them and moved back. Gently leading Lucan toward the blankets, she comforted him.

"Come now," she said. "Just lay down here for awhile and get some sleep. That's what your big…friend would want." When Lucan appeared upset, she gave him a smile, "I promise that if anything happens or he wakes up, you will be the first one to know." That, along with her hand soothingly rubbing his back, convinced the boy and he laid down, yawning.

Evelyn stood back up and went over to Isolde and Guinevere. "I'll need to be alone for awhile," she said, looking at the other knights. "I cannot have any distractions."

Isolde nodded, looking to the corner Tristan stood in. Without saying a word he left followed by Gawain and Galahad. Lancelot again put his hand on Bors' shoulder and took him to Vanora. Isolde turned going ou the door and shutting it quietly.

She walked toward the light coming from a sort of outdoor tavern. The knights were all sitting with a cup of wine, silent. She noticed that Arthur and Guinevere were gone, but said nothing.

Sitting next to Lancelot, she noted that still seemed upset with her. 'Irritating man,' she thought.

"So, that's your healer?" Lancelot asked.

She nodded, "Yes, that's her."

"She was quite good with the boy," Gawain commented.

She nodded again, "Yes, Evelyn has that motherly instinct. Guinevere has it too."

"And you?" Gawain asked.

She gave a laugh, "No, I was never given the gift of nurture. I won't make a good wife for any man or a good mother for any child."

Gawain smiled, "We'll see."

"Where is Guinevere?" Galahad piped up.

Isolde glanced at Lancelot, "She takes tonight, what she might not have tomorrow."

Lancelot's eyes hot up immediately. She looked him in the eye, willing him to understand.

"Why wouldn't she have something tomorrow?" Galahad continued.

"She and I may die tomorrow," Isolde told him, looking at the ground. "The Saxons will be here by then, no doubt. We will have to fight them."

They sat in silence for a while then. Galahad's brow was somewhat furrowed, he seemed to be concentrating on something.

"Wait!" he said, grinning. "Your Sarmatian. You could go back to Sarmatia with us."

She stared at him for a moment, "My mother is Sarmatian, I am only half. I was born here; I will die here. I have never been to Sarmatia. I cannot go back to a place that I have never been to."

Suddenly a Roman mercenary came running to them. "Saxons!" he panted. "Thousands!"

"I'll get Arthur," Lancelot said, a little to quickly. Isolde opened her mouth to stop him, but he had left already. Giving a frustrated sigh she went after the other knights to the top of the wall.

Coming to stand next to Gawain, she looked out into the dark. Hundreds of fires glowed in the sea of black. She let out a shaky breath.

"Frightened?" Tristan stood beside her, watching the glowing fires.

"No, just impatient to know if I should meet death tomorrow," she replied.

"Make way, make way!"

She looked toward the wall steps. Arthur was running up them, Guinevere right behind him. Isolde noticed Lancelot had reappeared before them.

Arthur surveyed the spots of fire in the dark. He glanced at the knights and of the serfs that stood watching him. He looked back to Lancelot, "Knights, my journey with you must end here. May God go with you."

He then made to leave; Lancelot and Guinevere shared a look.

"Arthur," Lancelot said, going after him. "This is not Rome's fight. It is not your fight. All these long years we've been together, the trials we've faced, the blood we've shed…"

He paused for a moment, but continued, "What was it all for if not for the reward of freedom? And now when we are so close! When it is finally in our grasp – look at me!" He grabbed Arthur, forcefully, "Does it all count for nothing?"

Arthur looked at him, determined, "You ask me that, you who know me best of all?"

Lancelot just stared at him, and Arthur started to leave.

"Then do not do this!" Lancelot persisted, Arthur turned to listen to him. "Only certain death awaits you here. Arthur! I beg you! For our friendship's sake, I beg you-"

He was stopped by Arthur grabbing his shoulder, "You be my friend now and do not dissuade me. Seize the freedom you have earned live it for both of us. I cannot follow you, Lancelot. I now know that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken have led me to this moment."

Isolde watched Arthur leave, amazed. He would fight the Saxons tomorrow with the Woads, his people. She noticed Lancelot look to Guinevere then leave, why did he keep looking to her?

"Isolde," Guinevere said, watching Arthur leave. "We must go now."

Isolde nodded and turned to Gawain and Galahad. She gave a half-hearted smile, "We must part now."

Gawain smiled, "You could come with us and become the beautiful Sarmatain wife I've wanted."

She laughed, "No, but I am sure you'll find her." Looking to Tristan, who was watching her, she gave him a nod and said, "Goodbye."

He just tilted his head, saying nothing.

"Let's go," Isolde said to Guinevere, who nodded in agreement. With that they left.

* * *

**A/N:** Kinda short ending. I kinda left Bors out, didn't I? Ah well, you should see the written version of this chappie; Lancelot disappears for a while! Anyways, **READ** and **REVIEW**, I must say it every time. 

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	9. Saving Your Ass

**No One, But You**

by **Marie9000**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N:** Here it is, the Badon Hill battle chapter. Just about every King Arthur story has one. This has to be the longest chapter I've written for any of my stories. **Okay, I gots a question for ya'll. Do you think that Lancelot should be paired with a really forward, confident girl or a shy, somewhat insecure girl?** I'm leaning toward the shy one since that'd be an interesting thing to write about, but you all let me know. You can put it in your review, email it to me, or if you have MSN Messenger, IM me. I'm – Thank you, thank you. I was all excited about writing this chapter cause it means I can open a new relationship for Tristan and Isolde. Hee hee XD

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**MORWEN12 –** THANK YOU, HERE IT IS. Lol, sorry, when people review in all caps it makes me giggle.

**Elfvamp1-13-97 –** I better, huh? Geez, you're all getting a little forceful with this updating thing. XP

**ThePonderosa –** Thanks! I was worried about making him OOC, it almost kept me up at night. J/K.

**Captain Annie –** Description, yes. I hopefully did that more in this chapter. I'm telling ya, this battle scene almost killed me. I told my friend Aseawen 'de typing, de typing, it hurts, it hurts!'

**newsieskane –** Aw thanks! It'd be so cool if there were more guys like Tristan, ne for each of us, and a Lancelot for each girl that wants him. That's my idea of paradise, cause then we wouldn't all be fighting over them.

* * *

Evelyn sat next to the bed in which Dagonet laid. The boy, Lucan, was asleep on the other side. She sighed, taking the mixing bowl, which laid in her lap, in a firmer grip and began to grind the herbs inside.

The room was quite nice and homey. The bed was the main part of the room. There was a small wooden table on her right. Before it had been clear, but was now covered with bottles, bowls, and herbs of many colors. There was a chest at the end of the bed that no doubt held the man's clothes. This room was not what she had imagined a Roman to have.

She glanced up at Dagonet's sleeping face. He was not what most would consider typically handsome. He had a shaved head and a long scar, which went over his left eye. He was very tall and obviously strong. Even though a few of the young girls back in the Woad village would think her insane, Evelyn thought the large man to be quite fetching.

She set her mixing bowl down on the small table and stood up. Bending over Dagonet she inspected his wound. The bleeding had finally stopped and with the right herbs and care, there would be no infection. Smoothing his bandage down, she looked up at his face.

"Gah!" she cried, jerking up to quickly. She lost her balance and fell to the floor. A groggy Lucan sat up, rubbing his eyes. He stood up, looking at Evelyn disheveled on the floor. He then looked to Dagonet and smiled, quickly flinging himself on the man, hugging him.

"See," Evelyn said, getting up off the floor and dusting herself off. "I told you that you'd be the first to know when he awoke."

Dagonet brought his left arm up and put it around the boy. As he did, he looked at Evelyn, unsure of what to think.

"Alright, Lucan? Will you go and tell Arthur and the others that he has woken?" Evelyn asked him.

The boy looked up at her, hesitating, but Dagonet gave his hand a squeeze and gave what could be a nod. The boy took this as a sign to go. As he slipped out the door, Evelyn went back over to the small table and proceeded to ground herbs once more. She had her back turned away from Dagonet, but stopped what she was doing when she felt a hand lightly touch her arm.

Turning, she found Dagonet staring at her. "Are you…one of Arthur's…angels?" he asked, breathing was still hard for him.

"Angel?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "What is an angel?"

"Dag!" Bors yelled from the doorway. He bounded in, beaming. Arthur followed him as well as the other knights.

"He is fine?" Arthur asked.

Evelyn nodded, looking each knight over.

Bors looked at her, "We'll be leavin' in the mornin'. Will he be able to travel?"

"Leaving?" Evelyn tried to hide her disappointment.

"Of course," the young bearded knight said. "We're free now, and we're all going home to Sarmatia."

"He's a Sarmatian?" she asked, more to herself. She had thought him to be a Roman, but was pleased to know he wasn't.

"Lady," the long fair-haired knight said. "Will he be able to travel?"

"Oh," she said, breaking away from her staring at Dagonet. "Yes, as long as he stays in bed for a few more days. I will give you the herbs you will need to put on his wounds. They will help keep away infection."

Turning to the table, she sorted the herbs and began to explain to Bors what must be done.

"Must you leave?" Lucan's small voice asked.

Evelyn gave him a sad smile, "I'm afraid so. There is to be a battle tomorrow and I will be needed."

She reached out and affectionately touched his head. Lucan leaned forward and hugged her tightly. At first, she was surprised, but wrapped her arms around the boy.

"You'll watch him and make sure he heals, won't you?" she said, smiling. A nod was her response. "Good."

Letting go of the boy, she stood quickly and giving a nod to each knight, she left.

* * *

"Artorius!" Isolde snapped her head up, looking out of the thick, dark trees. Were the knights actually going to help the Woads?

"Rus!" She could make out the form of Arthur on horseback. He was dressed in his Roman armor and ready for battle. Beyond him she could almost make out the caravan leaving the fort. The one yelling, who she guessed was Bors, was riding back to it. She could barely make out the other six knights. Evelyn had told her that Dagonet would be in a wagon, so he would not be riding.

"Isolde," she turned around.

A tall, older woman with long, dark hair and slightly darker skin stood watching her.

"Mother?" Isolde asked, wondering what the woman wanted.

Roxanna stepped forward, looking out toward the caravan. "Which is he?" she asked, curious.

Isolde gave her a confused look, "Who?'

Roxanna smiled at her daughter, "The man who defeated you."

Isolde could not stop the scowl forming on her face; Kalen and his big mouth. "So, you know?" she said, slowly.

Her mother only nodded in response.

Growling, Isolde stalked off, "I'll kill Kalen."

* * *

The Saxon drums thundered through the woods and over the great wall. The horse Bors was riding suddenly wielded up, frightened. Every horse in the caravan followed suite. The knights could only try to soothe and calm their horses, which had turned to the wall.

"Shh," Lanceleot murmered quietly, slowly stroking his steeds neck. He looked up, turning his gaze on Bors, Gawain, Galahad, and finally to Tristan.

Tristan looked to the hawk on his arm. "Hey," she said, quietly, clicking his tongue. "You're free." He raised his arm and the hawk took off into the sky.

Bors looked to Vanora and his children. One of the boys raised his hand and waved, sadly. Lancelot nodded at this and looked to Gawain, silently asking. Gawain nodded and Lancelot looked to the sky, a small smile on his face. As he did this the other knights began to smile and Galahad broke into an all out grin.

* * *

"I'm sorry, sister," Kalen said. Isolde had gone after him and now had him up against a tree, a dagger to his throat.

"I swear," he continued in their native tongue. "I wouldn't have, but-"

He stopped, suddenly, looking over her shoulder, past the trees. Her brow furrowed in confusion, she turned to see what he was staring at. Her breath hitched in her throat as she looked to the hill Arthur was on.

No longer was there a lone rider, now there were six; each with a standard and in full armor.

"Goddess: she breathed out. "They're to fight with us."

"Saxon! Saxon! Saxon!"

Isolde turned her head, sharply, to look out beyond the wall. One of the Saxon infantries was moving and yelling that annoying chant. Turning to Kalen, she grabbed his arm, "Go! Tell the others now!"

* * *

"Knights," Arthur spoke to the five men as though they were ten thousand, clearly and forcefully. "The gift of freedom is yours by right."

The loud chant of 'Saxon! Saxon! Saxon!' continued on with the thud of footsteps and clanging armor.

"But the home we seek resides not in some distant land! It's in us! And in our actions this day!" Arthur continued. He spoke passionately, from his heart, "If this be our destiny, then so be it. But let history remember that as free men, we chose to make it so."

His horse had been moving before his knights, back and forth. Now, he kept it still as he withdrew Excalibur.

There was a resounding 'Rus!' from the knights as they stabbed their standards into the earth. Drawing his bow, Tristan knocked an arrow and scanned the horizon with it. Taking aim, he shot it.

* * *

Distantly, beyond the wall in a great tree, a British scout fell down dead, an arrow in his chest.

* * *

The Saxon infantry rushed the great wall. They entered the wall gates, ready to fight, but broke off their run when they realized there were no enemies. In silence, they looked around, but found only fire, smoke, and fog.

"There! On the hill!" one yelled out.

Through the fire and smoke the Saxons could just make out the six horsemen. One Saxon called out an order and they began to march forward again. Only one Saxon took notice of the wall gates closing behind them.

* * *

In the woods, Isolde stood next to Guinevere, waiting. She watched as the Saxons marched forward. She scowled thinking of what would happen if the Woads failed today.

Guinevere held up her bow, aiming. Isolde and the Woad archers followed. She picked out a target and as she fired, one thought went through her mind, "I would rather die than become a Saxon whore."

The arrows showered down onto the unknowing Saxons, while Arthur and the knight rode through, slicing as they went. They disappeared into the smoke just as the Saxons turned.

More arrows came down, and with them the knights rode through, slicing. Isolde smiled as she heard the Saxons screams and yells.

* * *

Cerdic stood waiting. There had been screams and cries of agony, but now there was only silence. Cynric clutched the hilt of his sword, nervousness flooding him.

The gate creaked open just enough that one bloody Saxon could stagger out, crawling to Cerdic. He was within feet of the Saxon leader when he croaked out, "The knights are demons. That is the gate to hell."

The Saxon, Raewald, ended the mans life swiftly with his axe, and looked up to Cerdic. Seeing his leader's arm lift, Raewald shouted an order to the army.

* * *

Far above on a grassy, wet hill, Merlin stepped forward and looked out to the battlefield.

* * *

The sounds of armor being pounded and shouting could be heard through the woods. The sea of Saxons followed Cerdic. Isolde almost snorted, it seemed they couldn't decide whether to run or march.

She watched carefully as the Saxon's split once they came through the gate. A small flank was coming to the left while the main army continued to the right.

She looked to Merlin, he continued to stand and watch as Kalen and groups of Woads pushed their great, wooden catapults up to the hill.

Isolde and Guinevere said nothing as their arrows were lit. Isolde stared out at the battlefield, picking a target; a Saxon, with long, blonde hair and a particularly ugly helmet.

She raised her bow and arrow with Guinevere and let it fly. The arrows lit up the black smoke and effectively took out many in the left flank.

Guinevere put down her bow and Isolde waited, holding her sword. This was it, the moment she had anxiously awaited all night.

The knights on the hill rode down into battle, and great balls of fire fell to the ground. A sudden burst completely separated the Saxons with a firewall.

She heard Guinevere's yell to charge and held up her sword, yelling at the top of her lungs. She ran, screaming, toward the Saxons through the grass. The second she was within a foot of them she found herself slicing through.

* * *

The knights had all been knocked off their horse, except Tristan, and were in the process of killing.

Isolde yelled out as another Saxon fell to her feet. She grinned madly, looking for more. The Saxon, Raewald, was before her, unsuspecting. Running, she jumped onto his back, attempting to cut his throat.

He grunted and began to struggle. She grimaced; the man was too large for one to take him down. She tried to reach into her boot for a dagger, but her grip was loosened. Raewald, seeing an opportunity, swung her off of his back.

The next thing she knew, she was on her back, the wind knocked out of her, on the other side of the firewall.

"Damn," she swore, getting up quickly. One Saxon ran towards her holding an axe. She grabbed a sword on the ground and ran him through, wincing as his axe cut her shoulder.

Looking up to a small clearing in the battle, she saw Tristan facing the Saxon leader.

* * *

Cerdic dropped his axe to the ground, staring at the dark man before him. He slowly withdrew his sword.

Tristan brought his hand up, wiping his forehead and brushing his hat off. He held his sword with both hands, never taking his eyes off the Saxon.

He charged at the man, but found himself countered, easily. Their swords clashed and they found themselves standing before each other, swords pointed. They stared for a moment, before they each took a step backward.

* * *

Guinevere ran toward Cynric, lunging at him. She was ready and eager to fight him, she held and axe and sword, while he had a sword and shield. He swung but she blocked, grinning at him.

Lancelot could see the two past the firewall, as he pulled one of his swords from a Saxon. He looked back to Arthur, but found him busy fighting. He looked back to Guinevere and watched as Cynric hit her face, blood spitting from her mouth.

He turned, running through the Saxons, killing any who came in his way. Finding his horse, he quickly mounted and took off at a run, slashing those he passed.

Guinevere's mouth was beginning to fill with blood. She lay on the grass, Cynric over her, ready to strike. Suddenly, Lancelot's blade stopped Cynric's from dealing the blow.

* * *

Cerdic rushed at Tristan and their swords clashed once more. Tristan spun, trying to hit, but their swords hit high, and Cerdic pulled at a dagger, cutting Tristan's arm.

Tristan grabbed his arm, dropping his sword, backing up. He looked to his sword, laying before Cerdic's feet. The Saxon stared at him for a moment and kicked the sword over to him.

Lancelot was fighting Cynric, Guinevere had since gotten back to her feet, fighting near them. Cynric rushed forward, knocking Lancelot to the ground. The Saxon tried to hit him with his sword, but was kicked to the ground by the knight.

Lancelot got up quickly, turning to face another Saxon. As Cynric got up, he noticed a fallen Saxon's crossbow. He looked up, checking to see if the knight was watching, and ran over to get it.

Lancelot turned away from the dying Saxon, and heard a thud. He felt a pain in his shoulder and found an arrow deep in his armor. He looked up and saw Cynric, smirking, holding a crossbow. In almost a daze, Lancelot threw one of his swords, hitting Cynric in the chest.

Guinevere, seeing the two, fought her way through the Saxons, trying to reach Lancelot. He fell to the ground, landing in a sitting position, and watched as Cynric fell, dead. He sat watching the fight, and didn't notice as a Saxon started to bring his sword down towards him.

Guinevere swung her sword, fiercely, decapitating the man.

* * *

Tristan slowly bent down, picking up his sword with one hand. He swung at Cerdic, trying to hit him, but missed. Cerdic took the advantage and stabbed his dagger into Tristan's side.

The knight grimaced, falling to the ground. Cerdic stabbed his sword into the ground and reached for Tristan's curved blade. A sword cutting his hand stopped him.

He looked up; Isolde stood, sword ready, glaring at him.

"A woman?" he questioned, slightly smiling.

"No," she replied. "A warrior."

Backing up, he took his sword out of the ground and moved forward quickly. Isolde dodged quickly, but not quickly enough. His blade cut her arm.

The stood staring, each waiting for the other to move; Isolde yelled, lunging forward. Cerdic spun and sliced her side, deeply.

Crying out, she grabbed her side. Tristan was on the ground before her, breathing heavily. Before she could turn around, she felt a white-hot pain rip down her back. She fell to her knees, looking back.

Cerdic had begun to fight Arthur. She looked back to Tristan and saw a Saxon running towards him, axe raised high.

Gritting her teeth, she got up, running at the man, quickly killing him. He fell, dead, next to Tristan and she looked around, making sure no one else was coming.

"What…are you…doing?"

She looked down at Tristan, amazed he was speaking; she growled, "I'm saving your ass!"

* * *

**A/N:** Okay, that it for now. I'll update later when I've written the chapter and gotten some reviews. 


	10. Will He Live?

**No One, But You**

by **xx-mads-xx**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything from the movie King Arthur. Thank you.

**A/N:** Okay, so about the whole no longer being able to respond to reviews in the fic, well I like doing it, cause I want you all to know I love the reviews. I LIVE off them, so I'm asking you to let me know in your review if you want me to respond to them the new way, with a message on the thingy, can't remember what it's called… Anyways onto fic! It's not the best, but since you all wanted an update, I figured I could just go back later and revise, and let you know I wasn't dead lying in a ditch somewhere.

* * *

"Goddess be praised she didn't get herself killed."

"I'm surprised the Goddess, herself, didn't kill her for being so idiotic!"

"I heard that Guinevere," Isolde groaned. She slowly brought her hand to her eyes rubbing them. Guinevere had gone to Isolde's bedside and was smiling like a fool.

"For a long time, we were afraid you wouldn't make it," she said, holding Isolde's other hand, rubbing it. "But then Evelyn realized we wouldn't be so fortunate."

Isolde responded by sticking her tongue out. "Uhhh, even that hurts."

As Guinevere laughed at her sister, the room's wooden door creaked open, revealing Roxana.

Isolde, who could barely move her body, shifted looking to Guinevere, "Why did you let her come in?"

"Now, now," Roxana scolded her daughter. "No being could have stopped me coming to see you, daughter."

"Of course," Isolde replied, closing her eyes. "Not even the Goddess, herself, would want to deal with you."

A chuckle was Roxana's response. "Let's see, how long do you think it will take for her to heal, Evelyn?"

Evelyn, who had been watching the mother and daughters started, "Oh, um, it will most likely be at least a month till she can start fighting again."

"How long till I can walk?" Isolde asked, staring up at the roof.

"Well," Evelyn said, without thinking. "You could walk now if you wanted, it would just be very painful for-"

"Isolde!"

Isolde had already started out of the bed and was stuggling to make it to the door. Roxanna and Guinevere had both gone to her side.

"What are you thinking daughter?" Roxana said, holding her injured daughter up.

"Trying… to walk…" came the breathless response.

"Wrong question mother," Guinevere grumbled, on Isolde's other side. She put Isolde's arm around her shoulders holding her up. "Where are you trying to go?"

"Just wanted to see who survived," Isolde said still attempting to go to the door.

"Alright, hold on," Guinevere told her. She half turned to Evelyn. "Don't you need to go across the hall?"

"Yes, another knight is in need of healing there," the healer nodded, gathering some supplies.

"Come on then," Guinevere told her. Then saying to her sister, "You can come and sit in there."

Evelyn went ahead of the sisters and through the door directly in front of them. Guinevere helped lead Isolde, slowly, into the other room as Roxana left to find her husband.

Isolde had closed her eyes, wincing with every movement, but refused to stop. She thanked the Goddess as she felt Guinevere help her onto a long Roman couch. "There was another here, but he passed last night."

Isolde just nodded and opened her eyes, feeling warm sunlight on her arm. The couch was right next to a window, through which she could see the blood and body covered fields outside.

Grimacing, she turned her gaze to the bed and gasped at the sight. Tristan was lying in it, looking half-dead. He had been stripped of his clothes and was only covered to the waist by a blanket. As Evelyn was checking his wounds, Isolde could see the cuts and bruises covering his body and the large wound the Saxon lord had inflicted.

"Will he live?" she heard herself croak out.

Evelyn looked up at her, thinking. "I believe he will, but he will be hurt for a long time."

Isolde could only nod in response. It was going to be a long month.

* * *

The round table was empty, save four souls who sat together, laughing and talking.

"Dagonet'll be ready to fight again soon," Bors said, smiling. "Only problem is, there's no one to fight!"

"Bors, we're free men now," Galahad said, laughing. "We don't have to fight anymore. We can just live."

The young knight sat between his old friend Gawain and Lancelot, Bors to Lancelot's left. They had all been looking for someplace quiet to sit and just talk or have fun, and had found it here. The large round table dwarfed them all, but they found it slightly comforting.

"Let us just forget fighting for now and relax," Gawain said, leaning back.

"Well, I-"

Before Lancelot could continue, the door being opened interrupting the knights and an older Woad woman came in. She was holding a large platter of food, and smiled at them.

"A gift, to you great knights," she told them, warmly. Galahad's eyes lit up and he quickly took an apple off the platter. Gawain chuckled at his friend's eagerness, but also took some meat and ate, contentedly. Bors hadn't wasted a moment and presently had his face stuffed with food.

Lancelot, however, being the charming cad he was, was smiling at the woman. "My lady," he said, taking her hand in his own. "I don't believe we've met, I'm sure I would have remembered."

She slapped his hand away, playfully, "Oh you must be the knight, Lancelot. Guinevere told me to watch out for you." That was a lie. Guinevere had actually meant it toward the younger women, but had said it in the company of them all.

"Ah, you wound me, my lady," he smirked. "You must be her younger cousin?"

This time she full out laughed, "Oh you really are too much! No, I am Roxanna, Merlin's wife."

"'slde un 'inehere munphfer?" Galahad asked, through a mouthful of food.

She gave him a confused look, "What, boy?"

After swallowing and taking a long drink of wine, Galahad finally managed out, "Isolde and Guinevere's mother?"

"Oh, yes!" she said, smiling brightly at him. "I am, I am, and I've been wanting to catch one of you to ask something of importance."

All four knights looked up.


End file.
